Authors: Simon Duringer
Jessica looked at herself in the mirror, her eyes all puffy with traces of mascara trailing down her cheeks. Her eyes had taken the double hit of shattered emotion and physical fatigue from the long journey down from London the night before. She hadn’t slept much even in the luxurious surroundings of The Forte Crest hotel at Southernhay, in Exeter city centre.
She hurriedly got to work on repairing her face; she was a proud lady and felt slightly wounded that the doctor had seen her in such a state. Dr Stone meanwhile, had decided to leave it ten minutes to ensure he did not disturb Mrs Walters mid-stream. He thought looking at a lady before she was happy with her make-up was as bad as walking in on her half-dressed, and with her current disposition, he had no wish to further her embarrassment.
A short while later he gently nudged the door open trying not to spill either of the cups of tea. He cautiously manoeuvred across to the desk to put them down.
“Here we are,” he said, a self-gratifying smile strewn across his face for not spilling a drop.
He sat down at his desk and finally saw Mrs Walters for what she was; a rather stunning lady for her age, although her eyes were still slightly puffy from her tears. He could see past that and decided she was very pleasing to the eye. “Have you travelled far, Mrs Walters?” he enquired.
“
Please, it’s Jessica. I travelled from London last night. I’m staying at the Forte Crest in Southernhay. How is Harvey?” she implored.
“Well, Jessica. I understand your concern. I have a daughter of my own,” he replied proudly pointing to the picture of his daughter. “Your son is a very lucky man. He is stable now but, there have been some repercussions following his ordeal.”
“Oh!” she gasped, covering her mouth with her hands.
“We think it’s temporary but, he is suffering from amnesia. We haven’t let him have visitors until today as we don’t want to increase his anxiety. In fact, today could be a busy day for him. His boss is hoping to speak to him as well.”
“Who Greg? Greg is here?”
she asked.
“That’s right. Inspector Bickley. But unfortunately Harvey doesn’t recognise him. He does however remember you, in name at least. So, it is just as well you are here to break the ice, so to speak.”
“He’s an only child you know. I’ve been so worried,” she announced, clenching her hands on top of her lap.
“Well, I assure you, as one parent to another, the worst is over. May I ask; is there a Mr Walters?” asked Dr Stone recalling Harvey’s lack of knowledge for his father’s name.
“I’m afraid he passed away when Harvey was a toddler.”
“How dreadful for you,” replied the doctor. “I’ve been alone myself for a number of years. It’s terrible when families break up whatever the reason.”
“Yes we’ve been through some difficult times.” Her mind wandered aimlessly through distant memories of name calling and the pity she received from her peers. It had been far from fashionable to be a single mother back then.
“Are you planning to stay throughout Harvey
’s convalescence?”
“I plan to stay for as long as he needs me.”
“Marvellous. That should speed things up nicely. Well, I think we should go along and reunite the two of you,” said the doctor, once again standing up confidently from his chair. He beckoned Jessica towards the door. “After you,” he gestured with a smile.
“Thank you, doctor,” she responded.
“Harvey… Oh Harvey…” Jessica exclaimed as she saw him for the first time. “What have you been up to?” she continued, scorning him as though he was a naughty child.
“Mother, for goodness sake. I’ve been shot. I’ve not just been in some brawl!” he wanted to reply, but the words failed to reach his mouth and he lay in silence like a chastised school boy.
“Oh, Harvey. Thank goodness you are okay,” she continued, lunging over the bed to cradle him.
Dr Stone looked at nurse Stevens who had been tending to him and they exchanged smirks.
“Well, Harvey. I guess we can assume that you can remember your mother alright?” said Dr Stone, holding back from chuckling at Harvey’s over protective mother.
Harvey simply nodded and raising his eyebrows painfully forced a smirk towards his mother.
“Okay. Well, I think we’ll take our leave. I’m sure that the two of you have got a lot to talk about,” said the doctor, ushering nurse Stevens out of the room.
“Thank you, doctor,”
said Jessica gazing up at him.
“If you need anything I’ll be in my office,” he said smiling back at her.
Without so much as a pause after the door closed behind Dr Stone, Jessica inappropriately put on her mothering hat.
“Goodness gracious, Harvey. I told you not to get involved in that… that body guarding nonsense! What kind of a job is that anyway? Throwing yourself in front of bullets intended for someone else, for goodness sake!” Her feelings raging as though she’d forgotten he’d been injured at all.
“Mother calm down. I’m okay.”
The words this time reached his mouth, escaping with a raspy inflection. “I wasn’t the target, the guy was just a lousy shot!” he said, exasperated yet trying to force a grin.
Jessica sat up, looked him in the eye and amended her tone. “Oh, Harvey. I just don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to you,” she said, frowning as a tear reappeared trickling down the side of her cheek. She leant over and embraced him once again.
“How are you mother?” said Harvey trying to break the somewhat morbid line of conversation.
“Oh, I’m okay…”
Harvey looked around and pointed towards a jug of water on the side table. Jessica instinctively responded, assisting him in taking on board some much needed liquids. The water slipped down his throat effortlessly and Harvey sighed with relief.
“Mother, I don’t recall any memories of my father. What is his name?” he innocently asked, his voice still strained but slowly returning to a more ordinary tone.
The question hit Jessica like a thunderbolt out of a clear blue sky.
“His name was Christian, dear. He died when you were a toddler,” she said tentatively.
“Oh,” he said, saddened and glancing away. “I guess that’ll explain why I don’t remember him. Do you have any pictures of him?” he continued, refusing to let the subject pass.
Jessica’s persona changed. She had always managed to steer him away from the subject before. He had seen pictures of him around the house but they were like bits of furniture and had largely gone unnoticed.
“I’m sure I could dig one out. Why the sudden interest Harvey?”
Harvey noted a sinister tone in her voice.
“Mother, I’ve just lost my memory. I need to rebuild my past!” replied Harvey with contempt. “Did you not get on?”
he enquired, determined to get to the bottom of this mood change.
“On the contrary, we had many years of happiness together. I just wish he was here to share you with me.”
This seemed to satisfy Harvey for the time being, and the subject appeared to be closed.
Greg Bickley stood at reception as the tannoy went out for Dr Stone. He had encountered similar problems as Jessica earlier in the day. Dr Stone approached holding out his hand in greeting.
“Inspector Bickley, good morning,” he said shaking him by the hand.
“I see security has been stepped up around Harvey?”
“No, just over enthusiastic staff I’m afraid,” replied the doctor with a wink to the receptionist.
“Well, doc. Can I see him today?”
“Yes, but we must tread carefully as he appears not to remember you.”
“Oh, brother. That’s all we need. How did that happen?”
“It’s quite common when a person goes through life threatening situations like this. The mind blots bad memories out. Does he have any bad memories of you?”
“Well, let us just say we’ve had our moments together,” replied Greg, thinking back to what seemed like another world.
Greg and Harvey hadn’t spent their whole careers together, but had become soul mates after the Bournemouth murders in 1982. Harvey had spent some time working for the Criminal Investigations Department, a prized job for a policeman as there were extra pay benefits. He then moved on to the Drug Squad during the summer of 1987.
At twenty six, Harvey felt he had seen more than his fair share of nasty events. His once thick black hair was already beginning to grey. His medium build had not changed externally, although through years of training he had developed a six pack and what was once puppy fat had been converted into solid muscle. Like many others in the drug squad, he had to learn to be inconspicuous, which inevitably meant letting his appearance go, so as to fit in with the low lives that he would be forced to become acquainted with. He had developed a goatee beard which he had grown fond of. It had converted his facial appearance from being a healthy, handsome young man into a somewhat mean looking tyrant. He was exactly what the department had been looking for.
“Harvey,” called the superintendent. “I need to see you in my office right away.”
“What can I do for you sir?” he asked on entering the office.
“Come in and shut the door, Harvey. You know Greg Bickley I take it?” Greg was sat down by the desk.
“Yes, sir. Hi, Greg,” he said holding out his hand. The situation did not seem appropriate for their usual greeting as good friends.
“Greg’s heading a team in cooperation with the Americans. I want to put an officer in deep cover within the Giordano mob. If you accept this assignment, you’ll need to get your house in order before you go as you could be gone some time.” He stared into Harvey’s eyes. “It is a volunteer assignment, Harvey. Do you think you’re ready for it?”
“Yeah, how long before we go?” asked Harvey his heart going crazy at the thought of this opportunity.
“One week. You leave next Tuesday. Greg can give you the details.” The superintendent felt guilty. He didn’t like sending married personnel on operations such as this, especially overseas. “Okay that is all. Oh, Harv… good luck!”
he added.
Greg and Harvey got up and left the office quietly. Once outside, Greg put his arm over Harvey’s shoulder. “How the hell are you doing, Harv?” he said boisterously.
“Top drawer, and you?” he said grinning wildly.
“Banging people behind bars as usual!” he replied.
“How’s Jenny going to take to this new assignment?” Harvey stopped dead in his tracks, having been overwhelmed by this opportunity. “Oh Christ… I never thought.”
“Oh dear,” he muttered in caution. “Looks like roses could be called for. You do realise there’ll be no contact… could be a couple of years!” he added, exaggerating wildly.
“Thanks for making me feel better, Greg,” said Harvey anxiously. “If I make it past Jenny alive, the mob should be a breeze!”
The next week passed painfully slowly. Jenny hadn’t taken well to the idea of Harvey going away on a non-contact detachment. He had encouraged her to speak to other wives who had gone through similar experiences, but underestimated how candid they would be.
“They never think of the people they leave behind. You sit day after day not knowing whether they’re dead or alive, occasionally getting a visit from someone in the department with little or no news. Each time they knock on the door wondering whether today will be the day you become a widow… never again,” said one.
“Assume he’s not coming back and get on with your life,” advised another.
This hadn’t been at all the support that Harvey had in mind. It made the week a bitter challenge.